


Got Good To Him

by gala_apples



Category: Extreme Elvin- Chris Lynch
Genre: Emotion Play, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:59:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's junior year and nothing much has changed. Frankie's still subjugating himself in the name of popularity. Elvin's still feeling every feeling a hundred times too strongly. Mikie's still the Dad that can fix them both. Okay, one thing is different. Mikie's realised that he <i>likes</i> it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got Good To Him

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before I found out that there's a third book (just about died with that info). Therefore, I have no idea how canon compliant this is to book 3.

Despite what their peers say, Mikie knows none of the three of them are actually gay. They do hear it a lot. Frankie gets it from his other group of friends, the ones who drop ‘fag’ like it’s just another filler word. Elvin gets it from the jocks, the people who are still pissed two years later about him dropping out of every possible sports slot at summer camp. Mikie hears it himself from girls. Unlike Frankie and Elvin he mostly hears it positively. They like it. If he’s gay that means there’s at least one guy respecting them at the monthly school dances. Which, yeah, the girls have a point, the vast majority of students at Christian Brothers Academy are horndogs. And as the gayest guy available, he probably is the most respectful. But ultimately it’s not true. None of them are gay.

That isn’t to say that they don’t suck cock on occasion. But they’re not gay. Gay guys are attracted to other men, want to date them and get civil unions and adopt foreign babies. That couldn’t be further from their truth. 

Frankie does it because he’s a slut. Mikie wouldn’t be surprised if he winds up in sex rehab once he hits his thirties, when his mad sex drive is no longer something to boast about. Once in a while Frankie gets bored of all the pussy and sucks dick just for the difference.

Elvin’s problem is, of course, the complete opposite. Nobody loves him. Or at least not in the intense, close to obsessive way he loves, the way that scares off girls somewhere between the first and seventh date. Mikie and Frankie are his only non-hand options.

As for Mikie himself, he’d label himself as pansexual. Not a word that comes up much in the righteousness of God, abstinence or Hell lectures that pass for sex ed at CBA, but Mikie knows how to read. He’s attracted to his kink far more than to genitals, and that goes double for body type. The proof of that statement is Frankie compared to Elvin; thin and model tall and loosely curled dark cherubic hair vs three hundred pounds and a ruddy complexion. Hell, Frankie could be eight feet and Elvin could be so fat he’s bedridden and it wouldn’t matter. Mostly Mikie just wants to emotionally manipulate people. 

In a humane way, of course.

It’s possibly a case of ‘it got good to him’, like prisoners who don’t want to leave jail. Elvin and Frankie have needed him to fix them since childhood. Maybe he just internalised that, corrupted it until it felt sexy. On the other hand, maybe it’s always been destined to be his kink. Maybe if Mikie was living in Nevada, or Canada, or Cape Verde, hundreds of miles from his two best friends, the only difference would be he wouldn’t have anyone willing and happy to be manipulated.

Like today. Frankie was supposed to be busy. An old boss reunion with Darth temporarily back from Yale. Frankie’s been talking about everyone’s preparations non-stop, much to Elvin’s chagrin. After the way Darth reacted to the scene Elvin made at his party in freshman year -namely a bunch of fag and incest rumors, and forcing him to buy Indonesian imported root beer by the crate- Mikie can’t really blame him. At least not for the base discomfort. The terror seems a bit far. It’s not like Darth’s coming to CBA. All reunions are being held off school grounds.

Since that’s where Frankie’s supposed to be, when Elvin calls Mikie and invites him over Mikie expects it to be the two of them. Mikie goes. He can handle another night of bad-mouthing Frankie’s cruelly popular friends, for Elvin’s sake. But it’s not. Frankie’s sprawled across Elvin’s carpet. And looking at him, Mikie gets why Elvin’s invitation was actually him wheezing once or twice into the phone then hanging up as soon as Mikie said he’d come over. Frankie’s a fuckin’ mess.

“It wasn’t just Darth. Obie and Odie and Okie came back too,” Frankie says, and it’s hard to read his voice. Pride, maybe, that he lasted the night? Mikie really doesn’t get his shit sometimes. It’s possible to be popular without being around that group of guys. Mikie is, after all. But the point isn’t getting it. It’s letting Frankie brag about them sometimes, and letting Elvin complain.

Elvin looks like he’s going to throw up. Mikie crashes on the floor beside him, opposite Frankie, and puts his hand on his dimpled knee. “Breathe, Elvin.”

“He’s not done the story yet,” Elvin grunts.

“So they had a bunch of numbers. College has been working out for them. They had phones full of numbers. They wanted us young ones to get laid. But we had to earn it. They formed a gauntlet. Every time we ran through it we got a number. It was fine. Good, even,” Frankie says like he hasn’t quite convinced himself yet. “I have a pocket full of twenty year olds now.”

“It’s not fine!” Elvin nearly shrieks. “You’re all beaten up! And next year you’re going to be a senior, and you’re going to start doing it to other guys!”

Frank shrugs, wincing at the pain that apparently causes. “I survived.”

Elvin’s clearly torn between asking if he needs ice and shouting at him about the monster he’s become. Before Mikie can intervenes he goes the second route. “How can you do this? Tonight and next week and next year? It’s shitty and it makes you shitty!”

Frankie’s eyes narrow. “If you had a problem you could have bailed a long time ago. You knew what I was going to be when I got golf sector at camp. They even gave you a chance, remember? They’re good guys.”

“They forced you to drink. Beat you. Humiliated you. And sometimes I still think they-” Elvin looks at Mikie and cuts off.

“They what?”

They both say _nothing_ in completely different tones. Mikie’s got two things to fix. He needs to calm down Elvin, and he needs to make Frankie feel safe. Then he can figure out what he missed at summer camp three years ago. Luckily both of those goals are achievable the same way. He crawls in closer to Frankie and sits on his spread out legs, forcing himself to ignore the groan. Frankie’s definitely going to be covered in bruises tomorrow, but babying him now won’t help. Babying Frankie _never_ helps. He’s not built that way.

Mikie lifts up a little and kisses Frankie on his hands and knees like that. He doesn’t as much as jump when Frankie puts a long fingered hand on his ass, just pushes his tongue against Frankie’s teeth until he opens his mouth. Then he pulls his face away just enough that he can speak. “You don’t need to get beat up for the numbers of cocksuckers. You’ve got two sure things in the room.”

He doesn’t let Frankie reply, mashes his lips back against his before he can say a word. Mikie keeps kissing him, his hand moving on top Frankie’s zipper until he gets hard. In the interim Elvin’s moved in closer. Mikie can practically feel his breath on his neck. That only makes it easier for Mikie to swing off Frankie’s lap and onto Elvin. With the size of him it’s easier to just straddle one leg. 

“We’ve got this, right El? We’re us, right?” It’s not the dirty sex talk Frankie likes, but Elvin’s still quick to rise out of sheer shock that people will touch his body. He doesn’t need dirty talk. Elvin babbles his agreement against his lips, just like Mikie knew he would. Mikie doesn’t try to hear them, just swallows the _uh huhs_ like delicacies.

If Mikie was an amateur he’d ask ‘you two happy now?’ He’s not. He knows they are. For the thousandth, millionth time in their decade long friendship he’s fixed them. And that’s enough to get himself an erection matching theirs. It feels good to fix people.


End file.
